


The Persistence of Memory

by seimaisin



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-20
Updated: 2003-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel is recovering his memories, slowly but surely. Jack, however, is a little impatient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Persistence of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime at the beginning of season 7.

Jack strode down the corridor and eventually came to a stop in front of a familiar door. He’d stopped at this point countless times in the past year, but he never opened the door. There hadn’t been any need to – no one had been in there. Now, however …

He turned the door handle, pushed it open and leaned on the doorframe. “Daniel!”

Daniel was bent over his desk, squinting at some old book or another. He looked up. “Um. Yes, Jack?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

Daniel turned to look at his left arm, and then realized he had no watch on. He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Time to go home. Close the book.”

“I’m going to stay late. SG9 brought this back, and I can’t quite figure out …”

“No.”

“No?”

Jack walked to the desk and closed the book himself. “You’ve been here late every day since …” Since? Since he came back. For some reason, that small fact was hard to put into words. It was almost as if saying out loud would break some kind of spell, and Daniel would disappear again. Jack wasn’t usually that superstitious, but in this case, he didn’t feel like taking any chances. “When’s the last time you ate a real meal?”

“Define ‘real’.”

“If you have to ask that, it’s been too long.” Daniel rolled his eyes and reached for the book, but Jack slid it out of his reach. “Uh-uh. I have a couple of steaks at home in my freezer, and one of them is yours. If I don’t see you upstairs at my truck in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll come back here and carry you out.”

As he turned and walked out of the office, Jack heard Daniel mutter, “I forget, were you always my mother?”

Mother. Ouch, he thought. Not hardly.

~~~

A memory - the memory, in Jack’s mind. About a year and a half earlier, an evening off, after a particularly exhausting mission. Teal’c was off world, doing some sort of weird Jaffa thing, so it was just he, Carter, and Daniel eating Chinese food and drinking far too much beer. He couldn’t remember how the conversation started, but at some point, a drunken Carter started poking at Daniel about his sex life, or lack thereof. Daniel himself had enough alcohol in his system to defend himself. “Hey, back in college,” he started.

“The stud of the anthropology department, I bet,” Carter said, wagging her empty bottle at him.

“I didn’t hurt for offers, that’s for sure.”

“So,” Carter leaned forward from her cross-legged position on the floor, “what was your best college experience?”

Daniel furrowed his eyebrows. “You first.”

“I promise, if you tell us, I’ll tell you guys about Mike Taylor and the men’s locker room.”

From his nearly prone position on the couch, Jack groaned and put his hands over his ears. “Carter, as your commanding officer, despite my inherent curiosity, I have to say that’s probably a little more information than I need to know.”

Carter grinned up at him, while Daniel, seated on the floor at the foot of the couch, rolled his head backwards and closed his eyes. “Well, all right … I guess, one time, there was this guy …”

He rambled on for a few more seconds, but Jack caught none of it. His eyes popped wide open, and when he turned to look at Carter, he saw his own expression mirrored on her face. They interrupted him in unison. “Guy???”

Daniel rolled his head back around to look at them, and suddenly, his face turned a bright scarlet. “Never mind.”

Carter discarded her beer bottle and crawled over to where Daniel sat. “Guy??” she repeated, poking him, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Are you serious?”

He stared past her ear for a moment, but soon met her eye. “It was college,” he muttered. “You experiment in college.”

Carter whooped, and immediately started bombarding him with questions. (“Was it just one time? Have you been with a guy since? Do you have pictures?”) Jack closed his eyes and blocked them out, but soon he snapped, “Carter, enough with the questions! Leave him alone!”

She immediately apologized, putting an arm around Daniel’s shoulders and resting her head on his arm – as much out of inebriation as friendship. Jack kept his eyes closed and tuned out of the conversation that followed. For some reason, the idea of Daniel and a guy bothered him – and it bothered him more that it bothered him, because he usually considered himself to be a pretty open-minded guy. So, Daniel enjoyed the company of both genders. Why should that matter? It wasn’t like that directly affected him. Jack wasn’t ever going to be one of those people Daniel was sexually involved with, right?

He tried to put it out of his mind, but the younger man’s inadvertent admission preyed on Jack for the next few weeks. He looked at Daniel differently. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but his perception had changed. He watched Daniel more closely, following his movements like a hawk when they were away on missions, finding reasons to hunt him down and observe him when they were at the SGC. It was an obsession, one that put a bizarre feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t disgusted at the thought of Daniel liking men, he told himself. Quite the contrary – the boy was free to find anyone he wanted attractive, and act on that attraction, right? It was just … unexpected. Daniel seemed so vanilla, so unadventurous, at least that way. It would just take some getting used to, Jack thought. He’d get used to it. Really, he would.

Finally, one night, they were back at Jack’s place – this time, though, only Daniel had arrived for dinner, as Carter was off world with a scientific team, and Teal’c was deep in kelnorim, recovering after a particularly harsh mission. Daniel was conspicuously avoiding any alcoholic beverages, but Jack had no problem downing one beer after another. Maybe if he drank enough, he’d stop feeling all – uncomfortable – when Daniel looked at him.

After dinner, as they sat in the living room, ostensibly watching a hockey game, Daniel spoke. “Come on, Jack, out with it.”

Jack drank the last of his current bottle. “Out with what?”

“Whatever’s bothering you. You’re driving me nuts.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been jumpy for weeks. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. And, it’s just me – you’re not treating Sam this way, or Teal’c, or anyone else.”

“What way?” Jack rubbed his eyes and tried not to squirm in his seat.

“Like …” Daniel seemed to search for words, then gave up. “Forget it. Never mind.” He pushed himself up from the couch. “I’m gonna go home, it’s getting late.”

“No, wait.” Jack stood up. He felt panicked. Why did he feel panicked? “What are you talking about?”

Daniel grabbed his jacket. “You know what, Jack, forget it. I think I know what … no, really, just forget it.”

He walked towards the front door. Jack hurried along behind him, slamming his knee into the side of the couch as he scrambled. Cursing and limping, he reached Daniel and put a hand on his shoulder to stop his movement. “Will you stop and start making sense?” A lie, but a necessary one. He knew what Daniel was talking about. He was even starting to realize the ‘why’ of the what, but … wow, was that some scary shit.

Daniel turned around, slowly, and suddenly Jack found himself locked in a steely blue gaze. “You’re thinking about that stupid conversation with Sam, aren’t you?” Daniel accused.

Lying was not an option, not when he couldn’t look away. “Yeah.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Jack found himself physically aware of Daniel for what seemed like the first time, which was crazy. How many times had he touched Daniel, hugged him, dragged him out of the line of fire, clapped him on the shoulder? Now, though, his hand felt like it was burning a hole through Daniel’s shirt, and when the other man brought his hand up to Jack’s arm, he nearly jumped out of his skin from the sensation.

He would not think of Daniel’s sexuality. He would not think of Daniel’s sexuality. He would not think of Daniel’s sexuality. He would not think …

Daniel kissed him.

The little fuck kissed him.

Jack froze, but a split second later, the heat that was pouring through his hands and arms spun throughout his body like a fireball, and he grabbed Daniel’s other shoulder to keep from melting into the ground. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, he thought weakly, even as his mouth slanted against the younger man’s. This was weird and complicated and probably wrong. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling this kind of raw energy just below his skin, or thinking about how different Daniel tasted from all the women he’d ever kissed. How good he tasted. No, it really shouldn’t be like this. Not at all.

Yet, still, he found himself responding. All over. Oh, shit.

Daniel broke away, and Jack opened his eyes to see a dark cloud pass over the young man’s face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. Their faces were still close enough for Jack to feel his slow exhalation.

“You should be,” Jack muttered, but didn’t move any farther away. “This is all your fault.”

“What’s my fault?”

That Jack couldn’t lie to himself any more. That he couldn’t dismiss his weird feelings as discomfort and a vague sense of close-mindedness. That he had to start dealing with a part of his mind – or his soul, if he was feeling philosophical - that he never knew existed. “Everything,” Jack sighed.

Then he kissed Daniel.

 

~~~

It had been an uncomfortable relationship, one that Jack had never been sure how to handle. Daniel was a vital part of him, but yet, he wasn’t ready to put that thought into words, or even coherent thought. All he was able to admit to himself was that, at some point, the inherent feeling of wrong-ness that lurked in the back of his mind was wiped away, replaced by a feeling of balance when he woke up in the morning and found Daniel’s arm slung across his back. Without realizing it, Jack reconciled himself to the idea that he might just be all right with this whole thing. For these feelings, he decided silently, he was willing to deal with some mental – and physical – discomfort. He needed this.

And then, Daniel went and got himself killed. Or, not killed, exactly, but dragged onto another plane of existence. Yeah, sure, it had sounded like Daniel went willingly, but really, Jack thought, when your choices were a horrible, painful death, and ascension, who wouldn’t feel obligated to glow a little?

(Okay, so the answer to “who” was, of course, “Jack O’Neill.” Daniel, or the being he’d become, had offered Jack the opportunity to do the same, when he was in Baal’s clutches, but it just hadn’t seemed right. What the hell would he do as a guardian angel, anyway?)

A perverse part of Jack insisted on believing that Daniel had abandoned him, personally. He laid awake many a night, his thoughts spiraling downward into a dark abyss. They could have found a way to save him. They’d done it before, on more than one occasion. If he’d just trusted the team, trusted Jack … but, no, Daniel had been so ready to get the hell away from him that he’d accepted Oma Desala’s half-assed offer and walked away without so much as a thought for what Jack would feel like when he was gone. How much Daniel had changed the way Jack viewed the world, and how much he’d take away when he left. How lonely Jack would be.

But. On a planet, in the middle of a mission, right when Jack had started to put the whole situation out of his mind, there was Daniel. Flesh and blood, fully human. Without any memories. The memory thing was what killed Jack. Slowly, now, Daniel remembered, bits and pieces, the important Stargate related things, and, of course, words in more languages than Jack could comprehend.

He remembered all that, but, as far as Jack could tell, he didn’t remember the one thing Jack wanted him to remember most of all. That hurt. That hurt like hell.

Jack remembered. The memory was like a knife his gut every time Daniel looked at him with blank eyes.

~~~

Daniel was waiting next to Jack’s truck when he trudged into the parking garage. They didn’t speak very much as they drove to Jack’s house – this Daniel, the one who returned, wasn’t that prone to small talk. Jack found himself missing the rambling treatises he used to give.

Dinner was much the same; Jack ran out of stupid things to talk about halfway through. Finally, as he scraped his fork over his empty plate, Daniel spoke. “I hate this.”

Jack looked up. His stomach dropped. “Hate what?”

“Remembering. I’m never sure of myself. I see a picture in my head, and I can’t tell if it’s a real memory, or just a dream, a fantasy I’ve created somewhere in my head that’s coming back.”

A fantasy. Jack opened his mouth to speak, only to find his tongue was cotton dry. He took a drink – Coke, this time, leave the beer out of it – and tried again. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Lots of things.” Daniel shrugged, but refused to meet Jack’s eyes. “I wish there was some way to check these things, some kind of database of memories, to find out what’s real and what’s fake.”

“You could always ask those of us who’ve lived a lot of your memories,” Jack suggested.

Was it his imagination, or did Daniel blush? “For some memories, that’s really hard.”

“You have something specific in mind?” Oh, but turning the tables was fun. Evil, but fun. Before, it had always been Daniel chuckling at Jack, when the latter was uncomfortable with some aspect of their relationship.

Daniel looked up at Jack, who leaned his elbows on the table and grinned. “What’s your problem?” Daniel asked peevishly.

“No problem. I just want to help.” He felt his grin widen. “Tell your dreams to Dr. Jack.”

“Right.” Daniel’s fork hit his plate with a clatter. “I don’t know about this …” He stood up. “This isn’t a joke, you know.”

Daniel turned to walk out of the room, and Jack leapt out of his chair. His knee hit the edge of the table. This time, the pain left him unable to continue on. “Oh, fuck, that hurts!”

He doubled over, and Daniel came back into the room. “Jack, are you all right?”

“Uh. Fuck, I’m getting old.” Daniel’s arm encircled his waist, to help him into the living room. Jack held on to his shoulders and reveled in the contact. It had been too long.

They limped into the living room, where Daniel attempted to deposit Jack on the couch. Instead, though, Jack took hold of Daniel’s shoulders and stood up straight, wincing at the sharp pain that coursed through his leg. He looked Daniel straight in the eyes. He was afraid he’d see that damning blankness, the lack of comprehension that had broken Jack ever since Daniel had returned … but, this time, he found a glimmer. Just a touch of something, a shine that he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. A hope.

So, Jack leaned in and pressed his lips to Daniel’s.

The slight scrape of stubble against stubble. The smell of sweat mixed with dusty old books. The feeling of a hand, tentative, reaching up and grasping his arm. The light touch of a tongue on his lips as they drew apart. These were sensations Jack remembered. Damn, he’d almost forgotten how much he missed them.

“Okay, so that wasn’t my brain playing tricks on me.” Daniel’s voice was unsteady.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Huh.” Daniel pulled his face away, just slightly, but his body moved in closer to Jack’s. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much more than this.”

Jack shifted, to take pressure off his injured knee, and felt something stirring right around where Daniel’s body met his. He grinned. Yep, this was right, always had been. He didn’t know why he’d ever been nervous. “Don’t worry, I have enough memory for both of us.”


End file.
